


Beta Protocol

by SLiverofJade



Series: Omega Protocol [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha Males, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betaed, Bilingual Character(s), Character of Faith, Claiming, Claiming Bites, Colonization, Cryogenics, Dominance, Dubious Science, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Future, Future Fic, Heterosexual Character, Heterosexual Sex, Knotting, Male Character of Color, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Muslim Character, Muslim Holidays, Nesting, Omega Verse, Outer Space, Penis In Vagina Sex, Persia, Science Fiction, Single Parents, Slow Burn, Vaginal Sex, Widowed, omega female, فارسی | Persian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2018-10-30 04:45:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10869387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLiverofJade/pseuds/SLiverofJade
Summary: On Earth, Omega Naomi Ammann's been living as a Beta.  Now that she's been exiled along with the rest of her kind to Hipparchus, where the only scent-blockers and Heat suppressants to be had are what she can bring with her, how long can she maintain the ruse with a particularly attractive Alpha looking over her shoulder?Sequel to Omega Protocol





	1. Give Me Liberty

**Author's Note:**

> I promise I am working on the third act of Omega Protocol. This is the sequel that I'm working on while Emma's pouting and Reed's cutting himself off from all personal relationships. They're both non-cooperative little shits.

            Fresh air filled her lungs, fresher than London had ever been, never having known pollution.  Although it was late summer on Hipparchus, the bite to the air felt more like autumn to her.  While the vibrant blue sun wasn’t as brilliant as Earth’s yellow one, it was still too bright after being cryogenically frozen for months aboard _The Liberty_.  Squinting, she raised a hand a to shield her eyes as she shuffled forward with the other “colonists.”  She used the opportunity to surreptitiously sniff her wrist for what had to be the hundredth time since revival.  She still carried the woody notes of a Beta and not the sweet ones of an Omega.  There were only enough scent blockers and Heat suppressants hidden in the suitcase she clutched like it was a lifeline for a few more months.  She had no idea what she’d do then, but she had to come up with a plan.  Fast.

            “Naomi Ammann?” a female with a commpad stated more than asked.

            “Yes,” she replied, swallowing back the instinctive “ma’am.”  It was as important to monitor speech as it was scent.  A Beta’s nose might not be as strong as their Alpha and Omega counterparts, but their hearing and intuition more than made up for it.

            “You’re in dorm two, room 184.”  Naomi memorized the information since her tablet wasn’t yet connected to the local network for the data to be easily transferred.  “Your muster point’s over there,” she pointed to a male surrounded by Betas she vaguely recognized from onboard ship.

            “Thanks.”  Naomi adjusted the pack on her back and did her best to hide the amount of exertion it took to carry all her worldly (or would that be otherworldly?) possessions up the slope.

            The rest of the day was spent in an intense whirlwind of tours, basic security protocols, and a sort of combined meet and greet/job fair.  Luckily, Naomi was spared that that as a nurse.  Instead, Mihaela Kovačić rounded up her and a few dozen doctors, nurses, EMT’s, and other professionals for orientation at the small hospital.

            The first group to arrive on their new home was solely comprised of Alphas and Betas, militia, engineers, and other specialists who established infrastructure and a military presence to secure their territory from the indigenous wildlife.  The hospital was set up in one of the original buildings remaining from the original science outpost where their people were genetically altered.  The facility was more or less a glorified A&E due to trauma being the biggest risk to the initial settlers since their kind wasn’t susceptible to disease, and there were no children or pregnant females until _The Liberty_ landed.  The Beta group was a mixed bag of dynamics due to the focus being on families, the majority of the unmated adults were Omegas.  The final two ships, due to arrive in six months, would be Alphas and Betas and the few Omegas who couldn’t join the second group.

            Naomi specialized in neo-natal, and thus was on the team to establish a NICU and maternity ward.  There were a few other Omegas with the same credentials, but they weren’t shoulder-tapped for the project.  As much as it obviously bothered them, it wasn’t her place to speak for her colleagues.  If she could muster the courage to stand up for herself, they could as well.  And she couldn’t afford to draw too much attention.

* * *

             “Sashi, that girl you just sent with Joel, you sure she’s a Beta?” Kahlil frowned at the small figure struggling up the hill.

            “Naomi Ammann, she’s listed as one, and she smells like one.  Nor did she say anything to the contrary,” she shrugged while double-checking her list.  As a Beta herself, her sense of smell wasn’t as strong as his, but he wasn’t one of those Alphas who felt he needed to point out the shortcomings of others to prove his own status.  Besides, there were ways to trick a nose.  It used to be common for Omegas to hide their dynamic, particularly those who primarily lived among so-called “normal” humans.  But that became rarer when their people were forced onto reservations and scent-blockers were banned by most Terran governments.  No such laws yet existed on Hipparchus, and were unnecessary due to other imports being needed more, but if they were to establish their own society and be true to their own natures then deceit had no place in their new settlement.  Nor did they have the population to allow for such methods.

            Pushing away philosophical thoughts and the future of the species, Haddad mentally slapped himself in order to focus on the thousands of new arrivals.  He didn’t have the luxury of getting preoccupied with a pretty face with so many depending on him.


	2. The Pretender

            Kahlil wanted to tear his hair out.  No, scratch that.  He wanted to pummel the male in front of him.  “You have no skills that are useful here,” he repeated for what felt like the fiftieth time.  “Everyone without a valuable trade is expected to help with the harvest.  If you want to apprentice, that can be arranged after the harvest.”  He managed to get that out with a minimal amount of growling, no matter how much he wanted to go full Alpha on the Beta.

            “You need a right-hand guy,” Scott Morton insisted in that used-car salesman voice of his.  Hardly surprising considering that was the most reputable career on his CV.  If he had one.  Haddad’s files included government records.  If Morton knew that, he’d be sweating bullets.  “All these men to manage.  You can’t be everywhere at once.  I can help free up your time to focus on bigger problems.”  For fuck’s sake, he’d dealt with Alpha CEO’s that day who put up less of a fuss over pulling field duty than this slimeball.

            “The only problem I’m seeing here is you.”  He stopped reining in his aura and smirked at the flinch the smaller man tried to suppress.  “You have your assignment.”

            “And if it’s beneath my abilities?”  The oiliness fell away to reveal a sneer.

            “Then you should recall that certain privileges are contingent upon a minimum number of hours worked per week, like hot water.  And since our water comes from the lake, it’s barely pretty damn cold at this time of year.  If you’re not keen on picking berries, you might reconsider when you’re freezing off your twig and berries.”  Kahlil stared at him until he slunk away with his tail between his legs.

* * *

            Being housed with the unmated Betas meant their scent rubbed off on Naomi, easing some of her anxiety about being found out.  However, it also meant she was neighbours with Scott.  The odious male hit on anything female and didn’t look like she could kick his ass.  He’d probably go after the Omegas if he thought he could get away with it.  At almost five and a half feet, she was tall and slender for an Omega.  But as a Beta, she was considered short and on the curvy side, which meant she wasn’t physically intimidating and therefore vulnerable to his attentions.  She daydreamed about gutting him.  Too bad she couldn’t hide the body herself.  Maybe if she could drag his carcass outside one of the megafauna would eat him.

            “I bet you feel as good as good as these drugs do,” he leered, his foul breath filled the tiny room.  Hardly surprising considering he talked non-stop .  “Ow!”

            “Oops,” she said non-repentantly as she deftly, but not gently, applied the bandage over the neat row of stitches.  Tempting as it was to make a complete dog’s breakfast of the job, she couldn’t bring herself to be so petty.

            “You can make it up by kissing something better.  Fuck!”  Ok, maybe she was more than a little petty.  The sleaze really wasn’t terribly bright since it wasn’t the first time one of his pick-up lines resulted in a slip on her part.

            “Next time, be careful.  Or better yet, wear shoes.  We don’t have enough supplies to treat stupidity.”  Naomi turned to start cleaning up after herself.

            “Bitch, who do you think you are?” he snarled.

            “Feel free to lodge a complaint,” sniffed Aminah.  Everyone heard him hitting on the happily mated Mihaela when he came in, ignoring her not so subtle threats if he didn’t back off.  No one on shift would have any sympathy, nor would any medical personnel when they heard of his less than stellar character traits.

            “You don’t want to get on my bad side, sweetheart,” scowled Morton.

            “And you don’t want to get on mine,” she snapped back.  “Especially if you’re clumsy and ‘accidentally’ drop another knife on your foot.”  She managed to walk out of the exam room without outwardly betraying the trembling she felt inside.  Though it was from anger and not fear.  God save her from Betas who thought they were Alphas.  Sure, she was an Omega pretending to be Beta, but she didn’t use the ruse to take advantage of others.


	3. Chickenhawk

            “People are pushing for the election to take place sooner.”  Kahlil sprawled in his chair with a sigh. 

            “Harvest first, then election,” Captain Reed shook his head.  General was perhaps a more appropriate term considering he was head of the military forces.  Kahlil didn’t know, and none of the soldiers appeared to be confused about the hierarchy even when their organizational structure didn’t always conform to standard Terran practices.  How could they when an Alpha might serve under a Beta?

            “They don’t care.  The newcomers don’t realize that if we don’t have enough to get through the winter, we can’t dash down to the grocery store,” he pointed out, scrubbing a hand through his thick, black hair. 

            “If people don’t feel like they have a say, morale will suffer.  The novelty of an alien planet’s worn off and reality’s starting to set in, which means people are getting anxious.  Maybe something productive would be a good distraction,” Emma, Reed’s mate, interjected.  Some would question the presence of an Omega, mate or not, at a meeting like this.  They’d be fools since she brought compassion and empathy to the table of security-minded Alphas and practical Betas.  “I say we compromise by starting the electoral process, but campaigning and speeches are only allowed when off-duty.”

            “Then we schedule the election for when the major crops are in,” mused Dr. Nguyen.

            “Now that we’re introducing politics, I’ll have my people be on the lookout for more fights,” Reed said.  The militia also acted as their enforcement for what few formal laws they did have, part of the proposed ballot would include potential statutes.  Despite the militarized police force, their only weapons while inside the settlement were tasers and nightsticks.  When on patrol or perimeter watch, they were loaded for rabid polar bear.  Some of the predators in the area dwarfed grizzlies.

            “Do you really think things will get that bad?”  Emma’s wide eyes turned to her mate, who gently, but firmly, gripped the back of her neck, allowing her to relax despite her concern.

            “They’ll have a hard time without the creature comforts of Earth, so they’ll take it out on those of us who have been here paving the way to make their lives easier,” Dr. Morrow said dismissively, leaning back in his chair to clean his glasses on a shirt tail.

            “Strange, I seem to recall you bellyaching about missing the creature comforts of Earth not too long ago, Morrow,” the head engineer, Miles, said blandly.

            “I’ll make an announcement in the morning and set up a poll for potential initiatives,” Kahlil stood up before the doctor could open his mouth.  The others followed his cue and stood as well.  Normally the other Alphas would not be so quick to follow his lead, but no one wanted to be stuck in a meeting with Mad Morrow any longer than absolutely necessary when there was so much work to be done.

* * *

            “Aren’t you a nurse?”  Frowning, Naomi squinted up at the mountain blocking out the blue sun.

            “Yes,” she answered warily, sidling so she could get a proper look at the looming male.  Her heart damn near stopped when she met those amber coloured eyes, she had never seen such an impossible mottling of black, russet, and gold.

            “Then why are you out here feeding chickens?” 

            “Because I like to eat,” she arched a brow, brushing past him to replace the feed in the supply shed attached to the back of the coop.  The Alpha slipped the feed bucket from her arm before she could stop him.  Even though they thought she was Beta, most of the Alphas still thought of her as weak and fragile.  She rolled her eyes, huffed, and held the door for him.

            “I meant that you shouldn’t be on this duty roster.”  Wow, the male managed to scowl with his voice alone.  Too bad the rich, dark sound sent tingles down her spine and other places farther south.

            “Emma wasn’t feeling well, so I said I’d cover for her,” she shrugged and bolted the door shut when he came back out.  The other Omega, the first of their kind, suffered from horrible morning sickness.

            “Naomi, right?”  Damn Alpha was crowding her space.  She sidled away from him slightly.  Out in the fresh air and away from people, there was less chance of being found out, but she was afraid he’d scent her.  As it was, his natural musk floated over her like a delicious blanket of sex.  “Kahlil Haddad.”  She’d never gotten the hang of the Beta handshake, firm but not challenging, so she ignored the proffered hand.

            “What brings you out here?  The calming sounds of nature?”  Naomi gestured to the clucking chickens and the bleating herd of geep, an indigenous species that resembled a cross between a sheep and a goat.  In the distance, dairy cows lowed.

            “I wanted to ask you about Scott Morton, you treated him for a knife wound a few days ago.”  She stayed silent because he didn’t ask a question, and definitely not because his golden accent was like slipping into a hot bubble bath, making her feel languid and gooey.  “How do you think he came by such an injury?”

            “He claims he dropped a kitchen knife while doing dishes.”  Normally, she prided herself on her professionalism, but contempt oozed from her words.

            “Strange, he hasn’t signed off on any rosters, and certainly not kitchen duty,” mused Haddad, pursing soft-looking lips framed by a neatly sculpted black beard.  She had to tear her gaze away before she started drooling.

            “Well, he claims he was barefoot, and he’d have had to have been for it to have gone so deep.”

            “Let me know if any other ‘mysterious’ injuries come up.”  The statement was clearly an order.  And why did he keep shifting closer to her every time she tried to put even a foot of distance between them?

            “You should talk to Dr. Nguyen, she’s head of medical,” Naomi frowned.  And why was she wondering what his wavy dark hair, glossy under the indigo sun, would feel like if she ran her fingers through it?

            “You’re also three doors down from him,” he pointed out.  “But I will have a conversation with Nguyen.”

            “You expect an outbreak of mysterious injuries?”  Kahlil said nothing, although his stare sharpened, making her feel like a mouse facing a hawk.  Stilling, her breath caught in her chest, unable to look away.  Finally, he turned and walked back towards the compound.


	4. It's Getting Hot in Here

            The Abbott situation worsened daily.  Kahlil actually had to tell a few grown adults to do their own laundry instead of wheedling Omegas into doing it for them.  Interplanetary colonization was supposed to be about exploration, not settling squabbles over necessary duties.  A field-hand, formerly an accountant, tried to convince him that a telecommunications specialist was better suited to the task because of their Omega designation, and would enjoy the chore.  Finally, he announced that if anyone was unable to read the instructions posted in the laundry facilities, or otherwise were physically unable to operate the machines, they were to report to either medical or to the elementary school for literacy lessons.  The latter precaution was to catch any more attempts like Morton’s since the equipment was designed to be accessible for anyone with a disability, and there were options for those unable to use them at all.

            Today’s headache, and the reason why he was hiding out in the hospital, was a rumour that non-heteronormative relationships should be outlawed to encourage reproduction.  Not only did history prove such measures to be ineffective and a violation of basic human rights, but the argument was invalid since artificial insemination was an option for any combinations of dynamics other than Alpha/Omega, which were notorious for their fertility.

            “Oh.”  The petite Beta nurse stopped in the doorway to the examination room when she saw him lounging on the table.  “I didn’t realize we had an appointment.”  One eyebrow arched and her warm hazel eyes, a touch greener today, dropped to his feet propped in the stirrups.

            “I suppose I should take off my pants then.”  He propped himself up on one elbow and his smirk deepened with the blush that spread across her delicate features.  There was a sweet note to her smoky Beta scent, like marshmallows toasted to the point of almost crispy.  The wave of it rising with the temperature of her face had him practically salivating.

            “We should get the intake out of the way first,” she smiled with a mischievous glint in her eye as she shut the door behind her and casually maneuvered a rolling chair under her with one foot.  “For starters, are you mated?  Or in an otherwise exclusive relationship?”  His brows rows at that.  She should know he was unmated as part of the Alpha landing.  There were lots of unmated Omegas newly arrived, not that he’d had much chance to get to know any of them.  And he was having too much fun playing with this Beta, who was pretending to ignore him as she turned in profile to work at the console.

            “Nope, I have to beat them off with a stick to defend my virtue,” he winked.  She snorted and rolled her eyes, fingers flying over the keys, continuing to work despite the banter.

            “No chance you’re pregnant?”  Her words were tight with restrained laughter and he caught the curve of a smile in the profile of her face.

            “Well, there was this really cute Alpha who promised he wouldn’t knot me, just the tip.”  Unable to resist, she glanced over to see him give her wide, innocent eyes and she burst into gales of laughter.  The bright, infectious sound was loud in the tiny room, filling it as much as her toasted marshmallow smell.  Some of the stress melted at the warmth of it and he couldn’t help but join in.

            “Seriously, though, is there something you need?” she asked when she had her breath again, cheeks pink from either her delight or the flirting.  Or both.

            “A place to hide from stupid people?” he asked hopefully.

            “I think you’d have to go into hermitage on your own planet for that,” she snorted, focusing on her reports again.  “But I can give you fifteen minutes in my intellectually average company.  The offer’s contingent on you disinfecting that table before you leave.”

            Most Alphas would get all prickly after being ordered to do something, even if they were planning to do it anyway.  Haddad simply flashed her a thumbs up before lying back down with his hands propped behind his head.  What a strange Alpha.  No doubt he’d find her equally as much of an oddity for her true presentation.

            “And what could possibly send an Alpha running?”  She flashed him a quick smile so he’d know she was teasing and not questioning his Alpha qualities.  “Hopefully Scott’s not being an asshole again.”

            “No, at least not in any way that leads back to him,” he sighed.  She had to stifle a shudder at the deep timbre of his voice.  It would hardly do to get aroused where he could smell it, and while at work, no less.  “Though I’m sure either him or Abbot’s behind it.”

            “I’m surprised you’re hiding in here instead of, you know.”

            “Instead of what?”  Was that a thread of amusement she heard?

            “You know, going all growly.  Grr, argh,” she gave a half-hearted growl and clawed once at the air with one hand.  His laughter rippled through her to settle in a warm pool in her belly, like she drank a glass of port.

            “I’ve met more intimidating kittens,” he teased.  Without turning from the console, she primly flipped him off.  He chuckled at her.  “I’m not keen on getting growly with a bunch of knot-headed Alphas and over-compensating Betas, present company excluded, of course.  I prefer to use my Alpha powers for good.  Although I wouldn’t mind getting growly with a certain hot, Beta nurse.”  Her hands stilled as she froze like a rabbit who spotted the wolf stalking it, her heart leaping into her throat.

            “Grunts and getting pawed at?  Be still my beating heart,” she mocked with one hand pressed to her bosom, managing to sound as though she didn’t feel like all the air was sucked out of the room.

            “Trust me, **يا حلو/حلوة** , your heart will be anything but still,” he promised, dropping into a deeper register, dark with sinful promises.  “But it’s that gorgeous ass I’d like to beat.”  Naomi locked her cervical vertebrae to fight the instinct to tilt her neck in surrender to him. 

            “That doesn’t sound like using your powers for good.”  When did her voice get so breathy?  And jiminy Christmas, who cranked up the heat in here?  _Oooh, don’t think about Heat_ , she moaned silently.

            “Oh, it’ll be good,” he purred.  She could feel his eyes on her like a palpable caress.

            “Is this where I’m supposed to swoon at your feet like an Alpha/Omega romance novel?” Naomi asked dryly.  “No thank you.”

            “You’ve never wished you were Omega?” he asked skeptically.  A lot of Betas at some point in their lives longed to be a different designation.

            “And be on the bottom of the pecking order?” she scoffed.  “I don’t think so.”

            “You work with Omegas all day long,” he sat up to dangle his long legs over the edge of the table.  She had to exercise every ounce of willpower she possessed to avoid eyeing his fly to try and get an idea of what hid behind it.  “Do you really think so little of them?”

            “No,” she sighed.  “But I do see a lot of Alphas come in with them, and they invariably want their mate to quit their job and stay at home.  Then you have the knot-heads like Abbott and Morton who want to make those Stone Age attitudes into law.”

            “We always go a little crazy when our mates are pregnant.  Or so I’ve observed, and been told,” Kahlil shrugged.  “As for law, there has to be a majority, which can’t happen until everyone’s arrived.  And I can guarantee that I and every Alpha I know will fight any measure like that.”  He was an Alpha, one without any ties to Omegas, he stood the most to gain from codified bigotry.  But she trusted him, God help her.

* * *

 

            Sighing, Naomi counted the little blue pills like she did every day.  And there were still twelve left, like she knew there would be.  Swallowing one, she placed the bottle back in its hiding place wedged between the futon and the wall.  Not very creative, but there weren’t many nooks and crannies in the spartan room.  She kept it more austere than most Betas in order to avoid the temptation to nest.  Some days she wasn’t sure whether a few more pillows and an extra blanket or two would make the urge better or worse.

            With less than two weeks of pharmaceuticals left, and no way of acquiring more, Naomi needed to brainstorm contingency plans.  And fast.  Once the drugs wore off, her Heat would undoubtedly come sooner rather than later, after not having had one for years.  Unsurprisingly, there weren’t any of the black-market drugs in the hospital’s stores.  If anyone else was on them, they were quiet about it, too, and about as likely to part with their remaining stash as she was, meaning they’d have to pry them from her cold, dead, rigor mortised fingers.

            She had about a month’s worth of scent blockers, which would be as effective as a tissue paper umbrella in a monsoon.  There was a scent-proof wing on the Omega floor, but in order to gain access she’d either need to come out of the proverbial closet or sign up to monitor the unmated who were in Heat.  In which case, she’d be putting people at risk if no one else was there to keep an eye on them, which wasn’t something she’d willingly do.  As tempting as it was to ask a certain handsome, bilingual Alpha to help her through her Heat, she resigned herself to scouting outbuildings for an appropriate den.


	5. You're Driving me Batty

            Slipping out of her room, Naomi’s stomach complained loudly of hunger, but first she had to shower with the ever-dwindling scent neutralizing soap before she could mingle with the others.  Clutching the precious bar to her chest, she turned to dash off to the washrooms.  Usually she was one of the first ones up, which was how she liked it.  There was also less of a chance of getting sniffed out with fewer people up and about.  Unfortunately, her day was starting off on the wrong foot.

            “You’re pretty small for a Beta.”  Backing up from the person she’d bounced off of, she looked up into Morton’s eyes.  They were a little too calculating for her comfort.  As if losing the genetic lottery wasn’t enough, fate saw fit to keep throwing it in her face with this particular asshole.

            “And your brain’s pretty small for a homo sapien,” retorted Naomi.  Bad move because he took the opportunity to crowd her personal space.  She held her ground against the blatant intimidation tactic or else be pinned up against her own door.

            “I was thinking a runt like you probably doesn’t need as much hot water.”  Bastard probably thought he was so slick.  “Wanna shower together and save water, baby?”  Wow, how could she resist such a generous offer to use her hot water allowance?

            “You know, I was wondering where that godawful smell was coming from,” she feigned wide eyes as she cocked her head to one side.  His expression darkened with the promise of violence.  She darted around him and dashed for the showers.  Either Morton didn’t feel like chasing her down, or was too much of a coward to risk getting caught assaulting her in a public space. 

* * *

            Kahlil liked to think of himself as a pacifist, but there were several faces he was sorely tempted to introduce his fist to.  Gaelan Abbott was at the top of the list.  Too bad he couldn’t punch a screen.

            “Do you believe this, this ابن الحمار?”  He waved the tablet at Reed, too agitated to remember the words he wanted in English.  Their kind got enough shit back home, he’d had to fully Westernize to blend in as much as possible.  So his mental slip only pissed him off more.

            “People have been campaigning on ‘traditional family values’ for centuries,” he sighed, the dark circles under his eyes prominent.  “They’re just scared because this is all new and they want something familiar.  By the time the vote’s held, they’ll have settled down and come to their senses.”

            “Meanwhile, we’re supposed to ignore his خرى?”  That time it was on purpose, mainly because what he wanted to say wasn’t fit for company.  Not that he was worried about offending the captain, but he was conscious of the Omega napping in the other room.  Niklaus would have his head if he woke his expecting mate with his cursing.

            “Yes.  No.  I don’t know.”  He scrubbed a hand over his stubbled face.  “I have my hands full as it is.  I guess I just don’t have the energy to get bent out of shape over it.  It’s hard enough trying to keep all this away from Emma.  If she knew what he and Morton were up to, she’d have their guts for garters.”

            “Garters?”

            “I don’t know, it’s something she says sometimes when she’s threatening someone,” he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.  “Sometimes I have no clue what she’s saying.  Last night she said she’d give her ‘left two lugnuts for some Cheeze Whiz and Twinkies.’  I still have no idea what that is, but she wasn’t satisfied until I brought her cheese and honey, which she ate _together_.”  He made a moue and shuddered.

            “Next time you whine, you remember that it’s all your fault,” Emma yawned in the doorway, her languid stretch showed off the gentle swell of her belly.  The sight was too much temptation for her mate.  Reed plucked her up and sat back down with her in his lap.

            “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” he grinned and burrowed his nose into her neck.  She giggled at the scrape of his stubble and pretended to push him away.  The scent of happy, pregnant Omega filling the room helped banish politics from Haddad’s mind, although he did feel guilty for enjoying the scent of his friend’s mate.

            “Honey, not in front of Kahlil,” she murmured and pulled away from the kisses he was pressing to her neck.  Both Alphas laughed at the pink dusting her cheeks.  Living with them, learning the ways of their kind, for nearly a year wasn’t enough to wipe away a lifetime of the colder human culture.  In her day sexuality was something shameful rather than a vital bond of their community.

            “I should go anyway.”  He rose to his feet, wanting to escape the strange twinge of envy that sparked at seeing the happiness of the pair.

            “Oh don’t-”  Her objection cut off as her Alpha stood, shifting her weight so that he carried her.  “Nik, put me down!”  She slapped at his chest futilely.  He merely stared back at her until she folded her arms with a huff.  “Please forgive his rudeness since I won’t.  I’m sorry to see you go, but we’ll catch up later?  I need some more dirt on this jackass the next time he tries to bully me into something.”

            “I’ll tell you about the first time he met one of the native bears,” he winked with his hand on the doorknob.

            “No, you won’t.  No, he won’t.  Don’t pay any attention to that silver-tongued devil’s lies.”  Reed nuzzled his love’s temple, the fine hairs there disturbed by his breath.  She giggled and kicked her feet, nipping at his jaw.  Smiling and shaking his head, Kahlil let himself out, forgotten by the couple in their bliss.

* * *

            Naomi had seen far more vaginas that day than she had in a long while.  It seemed like now the harvest was nearly over, everyone was focusing on a different row to plough, which meant never-ending check-ups.  Evidently fate saw fit to top her day off with a bunch of dicks.  The biggest one of them all held the rapt attention of about fifty people, most of whom were eating up each pearl of “wisdom” cast at their feet.

            “We need leaders who aren’t swayed by their hormones,” Gaelan proclaimed, slowly pacing as he spoke and planting in one place at each point.  “We cannot afford to be crippled if a Council member goes into Heat in the middle of a crisis.”  He paused for the implications of his statement to sink into his audience.

            “By that logic, Alphas should be excluded from serving,” frowned Naomi.  Heads swiveled towards her.  Betas nodded thoughtfully.  Abbott’s followers looked at her with a mix of consternation and confusion.  “After all, the average testosterone driven Alpha can hardly be thought of as level-headed while rutting, or when there’s significant risk to their mate.”

            “We need the protection of Alphas,” he said with overt patience, as though speaking to a child.  “I suppose your solution’s to have Betas in charge?” he laughed scornfully, his cronies joining in like a laugh track on an old show.  She shook her head.

            “Us versus them mentality-”

            “It _is_ us versus them,” cutting her off in true politician fashion, his cultured voice rising and falling in practiced cadence as he devolved into a call and response diatribe.  He ranted against humans, nomads, and generally disparaging everyone who wasn’t an Alpha without overtly offending his Beta supporters.  And there was a liberal heaping of “think of the women, children, and Omegas,” which had every Alpha and mated attendee nodding along.  Rolling her eyes, Naomi slipped out the back.  The manipulative, exclusionary rhetoric wasn’t doing her blood pressure any favours.

            The damp night air was bitterly cold, a stark contrast to the day’s temperatures, making her wish she brought a coat.  The cause of her shivers, however, was not the chill.  It was the thought of Gaelan’s elitist policies taking root in minds made fertile by fear, watered in exile on an alien planet, and ready to bear fruit once the weather forced them into close quarters.

            Her long, auburn hair glimmered under the two moons, one high and full, the other half and close to the horizon.  It whirled like a silken banner when she spun at the sound of his footfall.  Kahlil hadn’t thought he was being particularly stealthy, but as a Beta she didn’t have an Omega’s sense of smell or an Alpha’s hearing.  As the saying went: Alphas the Athletes, Betas the Brains, and Omegas the…  Ok, perhaps some adages should die a painful death.

            “What are you doing out here?” grumbled Naomi, looking very much like a disgruntled cat.

            “I saw a female walking alone at night, the middle circle isn’t completely safe at night,” he chided as he came closer, referring to the cluster of buildings that formed the innermost ring of the settlement.  “I’ll walk you home.”  She muttered something sounded suspiciously like a quote from an ancient movie: “Me, Alpha.  You, Omega.”

            “Actually…” she trailed off without finishing her thought, staring wistfully at the lake with its reflected moons.  “Thank you.  I’ve heard the local bats sometimes mistake people for prey and will dive-bomb them.”  He had to wrench the wheel away from the path his mind was taking at the word “prey.”

            “It is a nice night,” he coughed, awkward as a teenager popping his first knot.  Small talk always seemed pointless to him.  Normally he was considered charismatic, a vital quality in his position as a member of the Council for the Relocation of Altered People aka CRAP.  (The decision on the name certainly hadn’t been up to him).  But as he walked side by side with this Beta, he found himself inarticulate as most of his blood made its way south.  Again.

            “Well, it was a nice night,” muttered Naomi, rubbing her arms briskly and shuddering.  He shrugged off his coat and held it out for her.  “I can’t-”  Kahlil gave her his patented look that got Betas and Omegas following his directives.  His last bedpartner said it was like being called into the pornographic version of the principal’s office and made her “naughty bits feel all tingly.”  Then again, she’d been an Omega, so that might just have been her dynamic talking.  Apparently, this female didn’t feel the same way because she exhaled sharply through her nose before allowing him to help her put it on.

            “I take it the rally left a bad taste in your mouth?” he tilted his head towards the faint sounds in the distance.  And why was he suddenly wondering what she tasted like if he kissed her?  She grimaced in answer.  “Don’t worry so much, people need to blow off steam, but they’ll make the right decisions come time to vote.”

            “I’d ask what planet you’ve been living on, but I know the answer to that, so I’m wondering what your damage is.”  The sleeves of the borrowed garment fell far past her fingertips and flopped madly along with her gestures as she spoke.  She looked so much like a child playing dress up he had to hide a smile.

            “You’re a bit young to be so bitter.” 

            “And you’re a bit old to be so naïve, but we all have our faults,” Naomi said with a sniff and a teasing glint in her eye, which faded when she tried for nonchalance.  “I grew up in a small town.  This is the same bullshit, different refrain,” she motioned vaguely towards the rally.

            “Theta res?”  She shook her head, the strands of hair making soft susurrations and Haddad wondered if it would feel as silky as it looked if he wrapped his fist in those tresses.  “Then where…?”  His brows rose in sudden understanding.  “Among the humans?  No wonder you’re cynical.”

            “And where are you from, Narnia?  Got any family there?”  Kahlil nearly stumbled on the flat dirt path.  People rarely asked an Alpha about family beyond mates and children.  Was she asking if he was unmated?  Sexy and intelligent though she was, she wasn’t an Omega, and when he Claimed a mate, he had to think of their future as a people before his own desires.  No matter how cute the Beta was.

            “My aunt’s on Earth.”  He was quiet for so long, Naomi didn’t think he was going to answer, the clatter and chirps of insects filling the silence.  She tried not to imagine about what sort of arachnids, if any, were indigenous.  Everything here was much larger than it should be.  Suddenly, she was very glad for the dim light when her face grew hot as she wondered what else around there was bigger than usual.  “My sister and her family came over with you.”

            “That must be nice, to have your family back together again,” she smiled, all erotic musings dashed at the mention of kin.  “Your aunt, she’s an Alpha?”

            “Yes.”  There was the slightest pause before his response.  “They’re just blowing off steam and will calm down once they settle in.”  He didn’t believe his words any more than when Reed espoused them, but he didn’t want her to worry.

            “I’ll believe that when the sky is green and the grass is blue,” she snorted.

            “Well, sometimes, right before a storm, the sky does turn a strange sort of chartreuse…” he teased, helping her down a slope to the sandy beach of the lake.

            “You know what I mean,” she rolled her eyes and nudged his arm with her shoulder.  A thrill ran down her arm at the brief contact, which she tried to disguise by shoving her fists in the pockets of the coat as if they were cold.  “Isn’t there something we can do?”

            “Our hands are tied until the third convoy,” Kahlil sighed, turning his attention back to searching for potential hazards and tried to suppress the instinct to tuck her smaller body up against his own to warm her.  It had been about five months since the last threat breeched the walls, but they’d gotten rather close a few times since.  “Then we have a quorum to begin codifying laws.  Until then we can only lock up people accused of murder, assault, or significant theft and gather evidence for when a jury can be formed.  None of us anticipated more insidious evils like inner-dynamic bigotry.”

            “Obviously the Council was made of all Alphas,” she muttered and kicked a stone into the water.  It landed with a _plop_.  A heartbeat later, the smooth mirror of the lake broke when a fish as big as his leg surfaced to investigate the source and if that meant food.  “If any one of you had asked an Omega, or even a Beta, we could’ve told you this would happen.”

            “We had to prioritize security, funding, infrastructure, resources, you think we should have opened up the entire process for public debate?” he snapped.  “If everyone had a vote, we never would’ve gotten off the ground!”

            “Of course not!” Naomi shot back.  Their voices echoed throughout the valley, either scaring off or drawing in the local wildlife.  “But the Council shouldn’t be all Alphas!”

            “Would you have listened to an Omega on security issues?”  She recoiled as if he’d slapped her, but quickly rebounded.

            “Not all of you have military backgrounds, yet we’re expected to follow you without question.  Perhaps the bigotry starts at the top.”  Her eyes flashed with cold fire and ice dripped from her words.  She turned on her heel and stalked back the way they came, leaving him in her wake to wonder whether he should follow her or let her get attacked by the bats.


	6. Getting Schooled

            With a grin, Kahlil waded his way through the river of kids that poured out of the school doors and onto the main green.  The small bodies parted around him like a boulder in the middle of their course.  A pair of baby Alphas’ voices drowned out the happy chatter of their classmates.

            “Stop it!”  He couldn’t have been more than nine, with a red face and raised fist.  The tiny growl was adorable, yet it was nonetheless a growl and he was the only adult within earshot.

            “Who’s gonna make me?”  His equally little opponent stepped to the challenge.  Depending on the quarrel, and if it was just the two of them, he’d play referee and let them sort it out themselves.  But a circle was quickly forming around the brawlers.  If he didn’t put a stop to this soon, more fights might break out as the crowd caught the burning grass scent of the angry Alphas.  Young Alphas who hadn’t yet hit their first rut always smelled like new spring grass to him for some reason.

            “I am.”  He stood over them with arms folded over his chest.  Their heads snapped up to him, mouths agape and eyes so wide it was almost comical.  The crowd fell silent to watch in rapt fascination.  “What’s going on here?”  In retrospect, he should have been more specific because they both began pitching their stories at him rapid fire.  He held up one hand until they quieted, and he pointed at one.

            “Nisha was pickin’ on the ‘Megas!” he cried with righteous indignation, jabbing a pudgy finger at the girl, who stuck her tongue out in retaliation.  She quickly retracted said tongue at a sharp look from Kahlil.  “She said they’re babies.”  A few of the onlookers nodded in confirmation.

            “My dad says…”  Another look and she fell silent again to thoroughly inspect her shoes.  A pre-pubescent Alpha might be able to cow her classmates, but not a grown up.

            “And what did you do?” asked Kahlil.  The boy twisted a toe into the thick, lavender grass.  He waited patiently.

            “I pushed her,” came the mumbled response.

            “If someone pushed you, would you change your mind?”  His tousled blonde hair bounced with the shake of his head.  The adult Alpha turned to Nisha.  “And you, why were you tormenting the Omegas?”

            “My dad says they’re lazy sluts,” the girl enunciated, jutting her narrow chin out.  There were a few gasps from the older kids in the throng.

            “Do you know what that means?”  Her cheeks pinked and she shook her head.  “Would you like to be called that?”  Another reluctant shake.  “Then why would you call them that?”

            “My dad-”

            “We’re not talking about what he did, we’re talking about what you did.  Why would you say that to someone?”  Narrow shoulders rose and fell.  “Do you think Alphas should hurt people or should they protect them?”

            “Protect,” she mumbled.

            “Now, I’m not going to make anyone apologize because a forced apology doesn’t mean anything, but I trust _both_ of you to do the right thing.”  He cast a gimlet eye over the two scrappers whose heads were still bowed, but were casting furtive glances at each other.  “The next time one of you feels like starting something, go climb a tree or run around.  And remember how you’d feel if someone treated you the way you’re treating them.  There’s not a lot of us here.  If you go around making enemies, you won’t have many friends left.  Do you understand?”

            “Yes, Alpha,” they chimed.  He nodded once and the horde scattered to return to their after school shenanigans; he watched them carefully for a minute or two more to ensure that they wouldn’t return to their previous skirmish.  Satisfied, he entered the school.

            “What brings you here?” Emma asked brightly, setting aside her commpad as Kahlil strode through her classroom door.  Before the screen switched off, he read the title displayed: How I Spent my Spaceflight.

            “I think I need to go back to school,” he sighed and hooked his foot around one of the chairs to spin it around.  Straddling the back, he settled into the miniature chair and rested his arms on the edge of the backrest.  She cocked an eyebrow and leaned back in her own chair, cushioned with a patchwork pillow of her own making, to rest her dainty hands on the slight bulge of her belly.  Despite the outward air and scent of happy, pregnant Omega, she pierced him with that patented teacher stare.  Any self-respecting Alpha shouldn’t squirm at that, yet he still shifted awkwardly.

            “How did you feel around Alphas when you were revived?”  She pursed her lips in thought and folded her arms.

            “I thought Nik was a hard-ass, my way or the highway Neanderthal,” she finally answered, eliciting a bark of laughter from him.  “Barbie was a weird mix of big sister and best friend.  You were…  I don’t know.  I mean, I knew that you’re patient, level-headed, and have a sense of humour.  And Nik wasn’t any of those things back then.”

            “Could you blame him?  Everything was going more or less to plan, then, all of a sudden, the original Omega’s dropped in his lap.  He was spooked!”  His booming laughter filled the empty room at the memory of how the captain had been frustrated at her seeming determination to flout his notions of convention.

            “What really got to me was everyone treating me like spun glass,” she continued, eyes focused on the past instead of him.  “No one bothered asking me what I wanted, except for Barbie and you.  Although, sometimes the two of you tried to run roughshod over me.”

            “You did go chasing off after a chicken,” he reminded her.

            “And none of you saw fit to warn me about the locals,” she shot back.  “It was all ‘stay in town, there are bears out there.’  If you’d respected my intelligence, or my sense of self-preservation at the very least, I wouldn’t have risked it knowing there were more cunning predators out there.”

            Kahlil thumbed his chin in thought.  It wasn’t often that he was struck speechless.  At the time, they’d all been worried about what too much stress might do to her to burden her with a list of possible dangers.  After all, they all knew what they were getting into.  She had no choice.

            “Keeping us, anyone, wrapped in cotton only does more harm in the long run.  Trying to protect me by keeping me in the dark…”  Emma shook her head and stroked her stomach.  “Whether this peanut’s boy, girl, Alpha, Beta, Omega, or something else entirely, I’m going to raise them exactly the same way.  And if anyone tries to tell them they can’t, or shouldn’t, do something merely due to their nature.  Or makes them think they're less than anyone else, well…”  There was a ferally cold glint to her eyes.  “Let’s just say my Alpha won’t be the one they’ll have to worry about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My hubby’s finally off of 12 hour night shifts so I actually get to see him again! Next weekend’s an SCA event, which I may or may not be attending/teaching at. The weekend after that, we have a weekend getaway for my birthday at a hot springs spa.
> 
> In other words, I have a life again! Please don’t expect any writing any time soon.


	7. Deep Fried and Smothered in Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW 

While the fates saw fit to screw her over at every chance, they were smiling on Naomi this evening.  There were several buildings from the original outpost still standing that were used for storage.  She selected the one that housed mining and logging equipment until the third and final convoy arrived.  She’d taken herself off the clinic’s roster for a week, saying that she felt like she was coming down with the flu. And she told the few friends she’d made that she was taking the Heat monitor night shifts for the week, so she wouldn’t be around much.  A full seven days was probably a bit much, but since she hadn’t had a Heat in years she didn’t know how bad it’d be when the suppressants fully wore off.  She might require a lengthy recuperation.

If her luck held, she could finish moving her necessities into the empty corner in the loft.  The space was too small for any of the tools currently stored there for winter but would be perfect for her.  The trick was moving the supplies gradually to avoid garnering unwanted attention.  First, she would go to dinner, otherwise her absence would be noticed.  Then she’d make the final trip once darkness had fallen.

“Hey.”  Evidently the fates were back to making her life hell.  She expressed an inaudible sigh.  Sure, Kahlil was a gorgeous, lean, delicious Alpha specimen.  But she didn’t want to be with someone just because of biology and the greater good and all that crap.

Not that she expected it would be all “me Alpha, you Omega.  Knot now.”  While it was great for porn and fantasies, it didn’t make for a healthy relationship.  Not that she had any first-hand experience with her own kind in that way. Or any kind, really.  Fear of being caught impersonating a Beta combined with the suppressants killed her libido.  There weren’t any formal rules against living as another dynamic, she just didn’t want to deal with all the questions and judgement.

“Speaking of unwanted attention,” she muttered to herself.

“Beg pardon?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“You have a penchant for walking at night, don’t you?” he asked, falling into step beside her.

“Fewer people to bug me.”  They were approaching the mess hall.  She was not eager to be escorted by him to dinner.  That would be a sign to everyone that he was courting her, which he certainly would not, should not, be doing with a Beta.  She had no interest in being courted, and definitely not by this knot-head.  At least, that’s what her own head was saying.  Other parts of her had a very different opinion.

“Then I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for you.”  He flashed that grin that would have graced any toothpaste commercial, made all the more brilliant by the contrast with his deep golden skin and framed by his neatly trimmed black beard.

“Careful, your Alpha side’s showing, Mr. el-Moradi,” teased Naomi.

“That’s actually what I came to talk to you about.”  Kahlil stopped, forcing her to turn to him.  “I sincerely apologize for my previous ignorance.”  She knew that a Beta would object to an Alpha crowding her, but she couldn’t when his heady musk filled her senses, weakening her resolve and her knees.  Crap on a cracker, her cycle was coming on strong.  She had to get out of there pronto because her uterus was waving its ovaries like freaking pompoms at the thought of him mounting her.

“That’s ok, apology accepted.  If you’ll excuse me.”  The words tumbled out, one on top of the other.  She backpedalled and tripped in the process, but before her backside could hit the grass he rushed forward and caught her.  Heart racing in her chest, she stared at his mouth and wondered what he tasted like.  She hadn’t kissed anyone since before she presented, what would it be like?  He looked like he knew how to kiss.  Ugh, what did that even mean?

“Are you all right?”  Distantly, she heard the question, but she was too focused on trying to keep her breathing to shallow breaths.  Pulling his scent even deeper into her lungs was the last thing she needed.    

“Yes, I’m just unaccustomed to Alphas apologizing.”  Was her voice as breathy as it sounded to her?  She had to get away before she truly embarrassed herself by doing something like rubbing against him like the cat in heat she was.  “I thank you for the concern, but you can let me go now, Mr. el-Moradi.”

“I didn’t realize we were on formal terms.”  An inferno grew in her belly, melting her from the inside out and reminding her that the clock had run out.

* * *

The Beta stared at him until he wondered if she was still angry with him, not that he’d blame her.  But instead of turning her sharp tongue on him, she ran and mingled with those going to dinner. Before he could catch up, Sashi stopped to ask him a question.  By the time he managed to extricate himself from the social encounter, it was too late.  She was already gone.  He sighed.

Frowning, he took another deep breath.  It was like her natural perfume had been muted pastels and now it exploded with the vibrant hues of a rainbow.  A thread of spun sugar wound throughout the scent and almost palpably coated his tongue, like he could lap it up.  His jaw dropped from shock, and perhaps to drink her in a little more.  She couldn’t be.  What his brain knew to be true was directly at odds with what his body knew.

As he picked his chin up off the floor, his stomach sank.  He knew in his gut that she wouldn’t head for the Omega dorms; he would have been notified of any changes in housing.  The thought of an Alpha like Gaelan Abbott finding her made his blood run cold.  He had to find her first.

“What do you mean no one’s seen her?”  Kahlil demanded, his normally amiable expression was now a glower.  He didn’t like not knowing where any of his people were.  If he’d been in a rational frame of mind, he’d remember that she wasn’t actually his.  But his protective instincts kicked in and they didn’t care whether or not he’d officially laid Claim to her.  As far as they were concerned, she was already his.

“She took the week off,” repeated Mihaela with that trademark Beta calm.  “If you can’t find her, that’s probably because she doesn’t want you to.”

“You don’t understand,” he growled.  She didn’t even flinch, merely folded her arms and waited for him to explain it to her.  He recognized that look; it was the same one Naomi wore whenever she was humouring him after he’d pissed her off.  Scrubbing a hand over his face, he sighed.  He couldn’t explain the situation to her, it wasn’t his place.  “If you hear from her, please let me know.  It’s important.”

Captain Reed wasn’t any help, either.  Apparently, she’d never connected her personal commpad to the local network, so they couldn’t use it to track her.  And unless he exposed her secret, they wouldn’t form a search party; otherwise, she’d have to be missing for more than a few hours.

His normal composure shredded a little more with each passing minute.  Her scent wouldn’t leave his nose no matter what he did.  And he couldn’t figure out whence it came.  It was like she’d left an indelible mark everywhere she had been.  Allah knew that she’d left one on him.  The thought that she was out there, vulnerable…  Growling in frustration, he emptied his lungs and closed his eyes.  Separating out her scent from the weave of multiple trails in common areas was like picking a strand of gold from a haystack.  He had to find the correct thread because anything less was unacceptable.

* * *

 

Naomi grunted in frustration, working her fingers in and out of herself.  The sensation was both too much and not enough. Her nub was hypersensitive, angrily standing at attention, but the deeper ache continued to eat away at her.  Soon, she knew that it would grow to consume her until she was nothing more than an empty hole.

Her temperature must be spiking, making her fantasies into hallucinations because she saw a familiar head pop into the cubby she’d fashioned from crates and spare sheets of lumber.  Full sensory delusions since his spicy musk, like sex and cayenne smothered in chocolate. Good thing he was merely a figment of her imagination or else being caught drooling from both sets of lips and three fingers knuckle deep in herself would be really embarrassing.

“You’re an Omega.”  Instinctively, his nose wrinkled and his upper lip drew back to draw in more of her scent until he could taste it.  Getting her to the isolation unit was out of the question. Every unmated Alpha would want to fight him for her.  And then she’d kill him for letting her be seen in her current state.  “What the hell?  You should be in the isolation unit.”  His guttural voice and presence saturated the room and her senses as he stalked toward her. The hard lines of his lanky body were pulled whipcord tight.  She froze, not daring to even withdraw her hand from between her legs.

“Go ‘way,” she moaned, pressing her legs tightly together.  This was her worst nightmare.  It was a matter of moments before he’d mount and Claim her then she’d be bonded to someone who couldn’t stand her.  At that inevitability, her hindbrain enthusiastically squealed “yes, please!”

“Come here, habibi.”  He joined her in the makeshift nest and enfolded her in his arms.   _Oh, yes, yes, yes, gimme!_  Her brain short-circuited, and she leaned against him to get as close to his scent glands as possible.  Chuckling, he tilted his head so she could scent him, purring and nuzzling into his throat.  He opened a bottle of water and eased some between her cracked and bleeding lips.  Eyelids growing heavier with each drink, they closed after the bottle was empty, her dark tousled head fitting against his shoulder with a sense of rightness that was staggering.

* * *

 

She woke up wrapped in warmth that smelled so good she wanted to take a bite of it.  She followed her nose to where it was the strongest.  It must have tickled because that wall shuddered and jerked away.

Opening her eyes at last, she blinked up at a face that starred in her fantasies.  She didn’t think that Heats came with hallucinations, but if so, then she was definitely on board with this.  She rolled more into him and nuzzled against his chest again.  What would a hallucination taste like?  Her pink tongue darted up his pectoral, the rapid heartbeat a tangible pulse along her path.

The Best Mental Breakdown Ever pulled back slightly.  Hey, if this was her dream, why wasn’t she in control of things?  She wanted him much, much closer, not turning away.

“Hey, hey.”  He nudged her chin so she’d look focus on him.  The bottom lip that she wanted to nibble on distracted her from what he was saying.  “…so dehydrated?”

“I didn’t realize water wouldn’t feel like a priority.”  Her gaze dropped to his shoulder.  The scent of her seemed heavier in the hideaway, which was barely large enough to accommodate him.  She burrowed the hand she’d being touching herself with into a blanket.

“You didn’t…?  How…?” he stuttered.  “Have you never had a Heat before?”  Face burning, she shook her head and her hair fell to form a curtain across her face.  “How is that possible?” She remained silent, stomach roiling, forcing him to come to his own conclusion.  “Suppressants?  Oh, moosh-am, why would you feel the need to hide?”

“Says the Alpha who’s expected to sleep around.  As an Omega, I’m damaged goods if I do,” she spat.  The burnt gold of his face darkened like the sun had set.

“Anyone who says shit like that, you point them out to me,” he glowered.  She had a niggling feeling that a visit to medbay or worse would be in that person’s future.  Her silly inner Omega purred in contentment over the protectiveness.  Her frontal lobe threw its metaphorical hands up in disgust.

“So, why are you here?” she mumbled, using the excuse of getting more water to turn away.  As she rolled back, he stretched out his arms as if to catch her.  Blushing, her hands rose to her chest, trapping the bottle between her breasts.  He bent his head and caught the sturdy neck with his teeth, slowly drawing the cool plastic up.  He threw her a wink and opened it for her.  Sitting up was hard, all of her limbs were limp noodles.  “I’m a damn ragdoll and you wonder why I’d take suppressants?”  Tears bit at the corners of her eyes.

“This is a bad one, I’ll admit,” he conceded.  The glide of skin on skin was becoming fascinating.  He watched her stroke his arms and chest while rubbing their legs together.

“Wait.”  She blinked when it finally filtered through the fog of hormones.  “How would you know?”

“I was mated once.”  That stopped her cold.  Alphas didn’t wear Claiming marks, he didn’t smell mated, nor did he wear a ring in the human fashion.

“I-I’m sorry!”  She scooted back until she pressed up against the crates that formed the sidewalls of her niche to get away from him and the urge she had to mark him with her scent, like he belonged to her.  And that was the least of what she wanted to do to him.

“She’s… she’s gone now.”  He reached into a bag that he’d brought with him and handed her one of the high-calorie, nutrient packed cakes the kitchen made specifically for Omegas in Heat.  How could she be jealous when the man was grieving?  Stupid biology, jerking her around like a marionette.  In between each handfed bite, he encouraged her to drink more water.  Every instinct sang that he was a good provider and protector, awaking other needs in her.

“And there we go,” he murmured to himself when he saw her pupils go.  “Hey, look at me, bibi.  What do you want?  Do you want to stay here or go to the Omega dorm?”

“Here.”  Her breath ghosted over his collarbone.  He had to swallow hard to keep from purring.

“Ok then.”


	8. The Death of Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't obvious from the previous chapter, NSFW.

Naomi writhed, trying to practically wrap herself around Kahlil.  He spoke, but she was mesmerized by his mouth like a cobra and a snake charmer.

“I can help ease your Heat.”  _Allah, please say yes!_   “Or I can care for you, making sure you don’t die from lack of water.  I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”  He wasn’t quite sure how he’d manage that, but he would even if it meant he had to jerry-rig a chastity device for himself.

“Please.”  The look of pain on her face made him feel like someone took his heart in their fist and squeezed.  She whimpered and ground down on the thigh between her legs.  Her slick soaked into his pants; the scent of her wouldn’t fade for quite some time.  If he said that, that thought didn’t make him hard as petrified wood, he’d be lying.  Pulling away from her took a colossal amount of will, especially when she was naked and helpless with need.  He told himself that soon he’d be skin-to-skin with his Omega and therefore the momentary sacrifice would be worth it.

She normally wasn’t too hung up on looks but watching him remove his shirt did funny things to her insides.  He was a bit lean for an Alpha, not that she was judging; she was hardly considered an ideal version of her own dynamic.  Instead of giving the impression that he was underfed or ill, his sinewy body moved like it was built for speed, every spare ounce burned away.

Trailing her gaze over his torso as it was revealed to her, she drank in every inch of golden skin.  The idea that hip bones were sexy wasn’t something she understood until now.  She had the strangest urge to bite those ridges, and she might have if he hadn’t reached for the button of his pants.  She pressed a hand over her sex and squeezed her legs together in an effort to alleviate the burning ache.

Kahlil had to back out of the nest in order to finish taking off his pants since the space wasn’t tall enough to allow him much wiggle room.  When he returned, she forgot how to breathe when she saw exactly what he was packing.  Her only experience with the male member was with her Omega patients, and they usually weren’t well-endowed, but she was confident that he was above average.  His cock was an almost angry shade of red and his tapering head arched straight up like a compass needle towards north.  She wanted to run her tongue along the bulging vein running along the underside.

Panting, she spread her legs in welcome, but instead of entering her like she wanted he slipped a finger between her folds.  He barely had the first knuckle in and crooked it behind her clitoris.  She jolted off the blankets and tried to take his finger all the way.  Easing in another and crooking them had her eyes rolling back in her head.  Hot, wet silk gripped his fingers on every withdrawal as if trying to keep him inside her.  Several thrusts later and she fell apart with a piercing cry, clamping down on him so tightly he stopped pumping for fear he’d hurt her, making the “come here” motion to work her through her climax.

Watching her come down from her high, he licked his fingers clean and purred.  He waited until her eyes could focus on him again to claim her mouth.  Her lips were soft and warm, if a bit chapped from the prior dehydration.  As much as he wanted to unleash his passion, he knew to go slow and pace themselves.

While Naomi was caught up in the kiss, he slid into her shallowly.  She squealed and squirmed from the conflicting sensations of too full and not enough.  Breaking away from him, she sobbed and dug her nails into his biceps.  He stilled at the grimace painted across her face when he only had the head in.

“Naomi,” he croaked, turning his head to the side to crack his neck.  “Are you a virgin?”  Doe eyes batted up at him and she shrugged one shoulder.  The effect was so adorable he knew right then that she’d be the death of him.  He touched his forehead to hers.  “That would have been nice to know, aziz-am.”

“Sorry.  Brain’s a little fuzzy.”  Her breath hitched.  She pushed her hips up, trying to take him deeper.  He groaned.  Definitely the death of him.

* * *

 

Kahlil worked himself into her, paying careful attention to her reactions and pausing for her to adjust, until he was fully sheathed.  If she wasn’t drunk on hormones, she would have appreciated the gesture more, but with the cocktail currently coursing through her bloodstream she could only focus on _more_ despite the pain.  She swore that if he was any bigger, he’d split her in two.

And yet, if she’d known that this was what it would feel like, she’d have done this ages ago.  She felt so deliciously full she never wanted this feeling to end.  And then he began to move.  The slow drag on her inner walls had her gasping from the overwhelming sensations.  She groaned and watched him work himself in and out of her.  The sight was incredibly erotic.

The muscles in his arms shifted and bulged on either side of her head where he braced himself.  Turning her head, she lightly bit his bicep.  His sweat and a hint of the musk that formed his scent danced over her tongue.

With a roar, her gorgeous, talented lover covered her with his weight and sank his teeth into her shoulder.  The fierce possessiveness of it, the care to avoid her bonding glands, hurtled her into an orgasm so intense he had difficulty remaining inside her.  She squeezed down on him with enough force to drag him over the edge with her.  It felt as if her entire body exploded from her belly outward.  As she reformed, he eased them onto their sides and tucked her head against his shoulder.

The sounds of their coupling continued to echo in her ears.  She buried her burning face in his chest, although this time it wasn’t her Heat warming her.  He had pulled noises from her that she’d never known she was capable of making, cries more animal than human punctuated with the beat of flesh on flesh.  She was such a wet mess that the distant part of her that retained her dignity cringed at the lewd sound of every thrust.

Tied as they were, she felt rather than heard his throaty chuckle. 

“What?”  She raised her face from his pectorals and her whole expression screamed that she was mentally crossing her arms.

“That.”  He pressed his lips to her forehead.  “Was.”  A kiss to her jaw.  “Amazing.”  He flitted up as if to peck her on the nose.  Insulted by the condescension of the act, she drew back.  At the last minute, he drifted over her lips before finally kissing her cheeks.

She stared at him, feeling distinctly off-balance.  The laughter in his eyes danced with something she’d never seen directed at her before.  He opened his mouth, but she pushed a finger to it, which he kissed.  She was afraid of what he might say.  Dark brows knitted together.

“I’m fine.  My leg’s starting to fall asleep.”  She glanced down to where her leg curled under his hip.  Kahlil rolled them over like she was spun glass so she was draped across his chest.  He ran his hand up and down the gentle curves of her back with long strokes.  Between that and the even rise and fall of his breathing, sleep soon pulled her under.


	9. Update

My asshole in law has been given a year to live, give or take 6 months, so updates will be ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	10. Nesting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khalil is Iranian-American and speaks Farsi aka Persian and Arabic in addition to English. He uses Farsi much more than Arabic. Pretty much everything he says in either language is terms of endearment, and Googled so I apologize for using the wrong dialect(s) and other mistakes.  
> ya nour el ein = light of my eyes  
> Sobh bekheir, hamsar-am = good morning, my spouse. Literally equal head meaning equal partner  
> ya hayati = Arabic for my life

Naomi gradually became aware of a great heat at her back and she was already burning up again, but she was too sore and the hormones hadn’t yet cycled back to the level where she wouldn’t care.  She carefully peeled herself away from her Alpha and various parts of her objected to the movement, particularly the bite on her shoulder. The mark was on the lower end of the trapezius muscle, well away from the bonding gland on that side.  She’d been so vulnerable. He could have easily claimed her and there was nothing she could have done to stop him.

She drank some water and looked around at the nest.  Bedding and supplies were haphazardly strewn around. She’d never built a den before.  The process was an important developmental stage in an Omega’s life, but her early attempt had brought up painful memories for her dad.  He never said anything; he didn’t have to. She stopped building them and even gradually weaned herself off crawling into her closet with a pillow and blanket when she had a nightmare.

This rathole fell far short of that dream.  Most Omegas looked forward to sharing their nest with an Alpha for the first time, and presumably Alphas did, too.  The unease she felt over the lack of a proper nest grew into full-blown panic. Whining softly, she tried to fluff the two blankets into a proper structure without waking him.  It was a futile endeavour. There simply wasn’t enough material, and her distress promptly woke him.

“Shh,” he cooed sleepily, pulling her up to sprawl across his chest.  Hot tears welled up to spill onto his firm, golden pectorals. Even as an adult she hadn’t allowed herself to build a nest, too afraid that if she indulged the Omega instincts then she’d slip in other areas.  Now she was sharing her first Heat and she felt cheated, even though she knew that perfectly cosy nests with a caring, virile Alpha only happened in romance novels. The reality was much as her logical side imagined: dirty, humiliating, and the physical needs of two people being sated, nothing more.  Then there was her decidedly irrational side fretting over pleasing the Alpha, which included building a proper nest.

“What’s wrong?”  She sniffled and hid her face against his bicep.  He rolled so he was on top of her, his warm weight overwhelming, comforting, protective, and inexplicably erotic.  The confusing wave of emotions and the corresponding gut-deep urge to submit caused the tears to fall faster. She was a broken Omega, and worst of all, she’d done it to herself.  He deserved someone who could at least build a damn nest.

Naomi stared up at him with large, watery eyes only to close them as if she was trying to ignore him.  Kahlil did not like being ignored by his Omega. He nipped at her throat to get her attention. She gasped and arched into him before she managed to engage her higher reasoning and shoot him a watery glare.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he demanded in a way that could probably be best described as “growly”, although he’d rarely been accused of succumbing to his Alpha side.  Her lashes fluttered up again to reveal her vulnerability and fear.

“Th-the nest,” she snuffled.  Kahlil lowered himself slightly so that a little more of his weight rested on her and some of the tension left her at the physical reminder of his presence.  It was manipulating her instincts, but he suffered no pangs of guilt if it helped ease her misery.

“It’s a good nest, you’re safe,” he purred, petting her bedraggled hair.  No nest was necessarily bad, although he suspected she’d had dreams of something more than a couple of boxes in a warehouse for her first.

“I-I’ve nev-never,” she hiccoughed.

“Built one?”  The tiny female nodded and tried to bury her face again.  He tilted her head up to force her to look at him; a rough thumb brushed away a tear.  “Can I let you in on a little secret? I’ve never made one either.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.  “Want to figure this out together?”

She stared up at him, she’d never heard of an Alpha making a nest.  He sat up and began rearranging cushions along the walls while humming the tune of a pop song.  After watching him for a few moments, she collected the rumpled blankets. He seemed to be focused on his work and she relaxed a bit.  Pretty soon she was singing along as she laid out the bedding. They sat back to back and his humming rumbled through her whole body, not unlike his purring.

Picking up a pillow, she gave a Cheshire grin as a wicked thought began to form.  She spun around and brought it down on his head with both hands. The humming broke off with a snort and she burst into giggles, keeping the pillow between them as a shield against retaliation.  His ridiculously handsome face popped up under the paltry defense and tackled her. Giggling, she landed safely and comfortably while he burrowed his face into her belly, which wasn’t as soft as a proper Omega’s, but he didn’t seem to mind if his playful snarls were any indication.

Kahlil kissed and nuzzled his way up her body and laughter faded into breathy sighs.  Holding her wide-eyed gaze, he closed supple lips around a pert nipple. She felt his erection against the inside of her leg, but he didn’t appear to be in any rush.  Moaning, she dug her hands into his hair to try and anchor herself. His tongue lapped at the rosy bud until she twisted away from the stimulation, only to provide him with another target for his affections. 

Naomi felt herself melting, and not just in the obvious way; parts she’d hardened long ago were softening like warm butter.  The instinct to yield to him completely held her victim in its grip, and it terrified her. The sensation of teeth gently closing on her sensitive peak broke her train of thought and she bucked her hips into him, desperately trying to get friction.

“Please, Alpha.”  Two words she swore she’d never utter fell from her lips, begging in a way she swore she never would.

“Omega, ya nour el ein.”  Her title in his husky voice shattered her mind, rendering her incapable of thought.  She whined and wriggled, trying to get closer to his cock and throwing her head back to expose her throat in the process.  It seemed like someone was hollowing her insides out with an ice cream scoop; she felt so painfully empty.

He sat up and couldn’t help but smile at her whimper of protest, her slender arms reaching out for him.  As beautiful as she was in her need, there was something he wanted to do first; what he should have done the first time around.

“It’s all right, Omega.”  He caressed her hips, marveling at the velvety sleekness.  She was slim like him and lacking the usual plump curves. It might have been due to the suppressants or genetics.  She might flesh out or she might not, either way she was gorgeous. And she was with him. He was afraid he’d wake up to find this was all a dream, a very vivid erotic dream.

Settling between her thighs, he kissed and nibbled at the tender flesh there.  She gasped and undulated under his ministrations, silently urging him towards her womanhood.  He took his time licking up, down, and between her wet folds before circling her twitching clit.  There were traces of his essence, but instead of repulsing him, he reveled in the carnal knowledge that he was still inside her.

“You taste just like you smell.  Delicious,” he murmured, slipping a finger in and crooking it.  He could feel her winding tighter and tighter with each stroke, shuddering uncontrollably.  “Are you going to come for me, khoshgelam?” One final suck on her throbbing bud and she came with a scream, thighs clamping around his ears.  He worked her through the aftershocks until she came down, literally since she’d arched off the bedding.

Eventually she opened her eyes and the trust and tenderness in them speared him right through the heart.  Stunned, he was struck breathless at the gift God had given him. 

While he was staring, Naomi scrambled onto all fours and presented her weeping core.  Her hip fit perfectly into his palm when he gripped it, aiming his dick with his other hand towards her entrance.  Lining up the fat head, she reared back to sink herself down onto his shaft. She whimpered, likely still sore, and he groaned at the feeling of her silken walls clenching around him.  As much as he wanted to pound into her, this was a marathon, not a sprint.

“Knot me, Alpha,” she pleaded, lowering her chest onto the fluffy blanket.  The downy material teased her nipples. It was like the leash on his self-control snapped.  He slammed into her, his sack bouncing deliciously off her clitoris. There was a bite of pain and then the ache of being filled so full.  The heat in her belly spread through her veins like wildfire.

The bulge of his knot, already beginning to swell, caught slightly and she mewled, kneading the bedding in her fists.  Strong hands dug into her hips like he was afraid she’d get away. There’d undoubtedly be bruises later. He was branding her, inside and out.  And she wanted it.

He rolled his hips into her, harder and harder, his knot stretching her unbelievably with every thrust.  The slapping of flesh on flesh, the lewd squishing as he opened her up filled the small space. He jerked her down onto his cock one last time and held her there, pumping her full of his seed.

Panting and shaking, she squirmed on his cock, trying to eke out another orgasm.  But her nethers felt alternately numb and hypersensitive. Every muscle in her body had been stretching to the breaking point.  Her arms couldn’t hold her up any longer. In fact, her lower half was completely supported by Kahlil. 

“Shh, don’t fight it, little one.  Let me.” Deft fingers worked their way along her slit to the bundle of nerves hidden there.  Alternating shallow thrusts with pressure on her pearl soon had her screaming her pleasure. Then, like a marionette with its strings cut, she collapsed.  By the time he eased them onto their sides, her lids were already falling closed.

* * *

 

Kahlil woke to Maryam stirring in his arms. 

“Sobh bekheir, hamsar-am,” he murmured into her hair, taking a deep lungful of her scent.  Instead of his mate’s signature jasmine and coconut, he smelled lemon and rosemary. The fog of sleep burned away and reality came rushing back in.  His mate was dead. Blinking blearily, he saw a pert butt crawling away painted in faint marks that matched his hands.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he teased.  Grunting, she pointed towards the exit, probably needed to pee.  He followed her out. She’d hidden the entry to her burrow by staggering the crates forming the short tunnel.  Looking at it from the outside, it looked like there was a gap between the two outermost boxes, but nothing more than that.  She had planned well, although the passage was a bit cramped for him, not that she’d had him in mind, of course.

She tried to stand on legs as wobbly as a newborn foal’s.  Scooping her up, he carried her over to the washroom at the back of the warehouse.  It was chilly in the storage area, but his near constant erection didn’t care because she was warm and smelled good in his arms.

Placing her on the toilet, he left her in privacy and retrieved some washcloths from her supplies.  If he felt sticky and disgusting, he could only imagine how she felt. Too bad there wasn’t a shower, or better yet, a bath and some Epsom salts.  Maryam always said those helped. He didn’t know which he should feel guiltier over: finding a new lover after the passing of his mate or thinking of his mate while with said lover.

A hoarse affirmative answered his knock.  She swayed where she sat; he needed to get some food in her.  Lacking the fat reserves typical of her dynamic to get them through oestrous and pregnancy, she needed to consume more calories, but her physiology was more focused on feeding another part of her right now.

“How’re you feeling?”  He ran the tap until it warmed and ran a washcloth under the water.  Another nonverbal response. Glancing over as he rung the cloth out, he saw that she was focused on something quite a bit lower than his face.  With a chuckle, he began to clean her up. The simple task was made more difficult due to the noises she was making; little moans when he came across a sore spot and gasps of pleasure in others.  The way she licked her lips and stared at his groin wasn’t helping, either. How he wished for some place a bit more romantic to see her looking at him like that from her knees.

Everything hurt, something that media portraying Alpha/Omega relationships never touched upon.  And what didn’t hurt felt too gross for words. There was at least another day of this hell, more likely two.  Normally she’d protest the sponge bath while sitting on the toilet, but she lacked the energy for that, let alone taking care of herself.

She had to admit, however begrudgingly, that Alphas were good for something, even if that something was caring for their Omega after they’d completely wrecked them.  Would her lady bits ever be the same again? Her face warmed at the thought because she was sure that no one else could make her feel like  _ that _ .

It was like when her ovaries were in control her brain shut off completely, and any time her brain managed to engage it went into overdrive in the opposite direction.  Her uterus was telling her to surrender while her brain yelled at her to run. She knew she should be terrified, but she was mired in the haze of oestrus like quicksand and couldn’t summon the energy to panic.

“What do you want out of this?”  It took more courage than she cared to admit to ask the question.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything.  He rinsed the washcloths, rung them out, and hung them over the edge of the sink to dry.  Then he picked her up again.

“Are you ignoring me?” she demanded, poking him in his chest with a finger.  A very firm and very warm chest.

“I am not answering such an important question in a warehouse washroom.”  Oh, well that was a different matter entirely. 

Maneuvering the both of them through the passage was tricky, but Khalil managed the feat.  She fussed with the nest while he got water and one of the special cakes designed for Omegas who typically don’t remember or even feel like eating during their Heat.  Once he got comfortable, he pulled her into his lap, broke off a piece of the loaf, and held it to her lips. She could refuse out of principle or she could allow him to spoil her.  It was actually pretty good despite being mostly nuts, whole grains, and dried fruit. He talked while she ate.

“I want nothing more from you than you are willing to give, ya hayati.”  She was growing curious about what he said the times he slipped from English, but knew she wasn’t likely to remember due to her current condition.  She wasn’t afraid to ask or anything. “If you want to go back to the way things were before, I only ask that you stop giving me the silent treatment.”  Muscles that had never before been put through so much ill treatment as they had recently complained when she giggled. “If you want more, then I would be honoured.”  He took the opportunity to pop another morsel into her mouth while her jaw was still on the ground.


	11. Jiga-Tala

Naomi desperately needed a shower.  The sponge baths hadn’t been cutting it, but at least her Heat was finally over and she could clean up properly.  She tried not to dwell on what was dried in places she didn’t even knew she had. And now that her hormones had settled down shame was sinking in.  The events of the previous four days played on a loop in her mind, complete with audio, no matter how much she tried to focus on something, anything, else.

Kahlil shouldered the pack of remaining supplies and detritus and grabbed an armful of folded bedding.  She already had a stack in her arms. It was the middle of the night and nearly everyone would be asleep.  While their movements weren’t restricted after dark, very few people ventured out so late. They’d undoubtedly be spotted by guards but wouldn’t be stopped unless they acted suspicious. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” she pleaded, more to the pillows she carried than to him.

“And how do you plan to hide your scent?” he cocked an eyebrow at her.  First, she had to get back to her dorm without anyone scenting her before she could use her scent-blocking soap and spray.  It wasn’t a long-term solution, but it was the only one she had. “Why hide?” A bark of bitter laughter slipped from her, causing the furrows in his brow to deepen.

“You wouldn’t understand, you’re an Alpha,” she shook her head.

“Then make me understand.”  His normally laid-back West Coast accent thickened with the hint of some other accent, probably the language in which he whispered or shouted while screwing her six ways from Sunday.  If he thought that it had an effect on her, he was absolutely correct.

“You are not entitled to an explanation, no matter what you think you can hold over my head,” she frowned.

“How are we to formulate a society predicated on equality without input from all its members?” he returned.  The logic brought her up short. Apparently, their argument had stuck with him.

“Fine,” she sniffed, and straightened her spine.  “My dad was a Beta.”

“And he made you feel inadequate for your dynamic?” he growled.

“This is my story.  You are to listen, not pass judgment,” she snapped, ire making her hazel eyes spark in the dim light of the twin moons.  “My mom was Omega.” Sensing his aggression, she eyed him warily to see if he’d interrupt again. When he didn’t, she continued, “We were still on the Eta reservation when she went into Heat.  One of the Alphas thought she was ‘betraying our race’ because she mated a Beta.”

She paused again to gauge his reaction.  He’d undoubtedly heard such putrid sentiments before, of course, usually by Alphas who repelled potential mates with their very personalities.  Instead of self-reflection, they thought they were somehow “owed” an Omega mate by design of their long-ago creators, virtue of their dynamic, and for the nebulous Greater Good.  His grimace of distaste mollified her current irritation with him.

“I was nine at the time.  Dad worked in town for a human company.”  Their people allowed for time off due to estrous, but humans saw the often debilitating situation as simply an excuse to fuck like bunnies.  If those knot-heads saw how draining it was, they’d change their tune. Merely thinking about it made her seriously consider taking a nap before showering.  “He waited until Dad was at work to break in, rape, and Claim her.” Her voice went flat as though commenting on the weather; a growl rose in his throat. “The bond didn’t form right, and she was stuck, tied to both of them.  She committed suicide, Dad and I moved off the res, and a few years later I went on suppressants when I started going into pre-estrous.”

“And the Alpha?”  If he thought that the casual pitch to his voice hid the menace underneath, he was sorely mistaken.  Despite his affable demeanour, almost Beta-like, it merely hid the edge of an Alpha.

“She took him with her.”  She hadn’t spoken of the incident in many years.  Although time had taught her to strip emotion from the words, it still felt like swallowing rusty razor blades.  The strain of forcing back the tears and locking her shoulders to stop hunching in on herself caused knots to form in her chest and between her scapulae.  A flash of weakness almost had her collapsing against his chest and sobbing her heart out.

“Did your father come with you?”  As a Beta, he should’ve been on the same ship.

“He said he’d rather eat his shotgun than have to live among Alphas.  There, story time’s over.” She turned on her heel to split off towards the Beta living quarters.

“I could keep you safe.”  She hesitated, glancing briefly at the grim determination etched in his face.  He honestly believed that. How she yearned to have that optimism again. She thought about the way she’d felt safe, protected, cared for in his arms and bile churned in her stomach.  Whatever security she thought was to be found there was false.

“You’re missing the point,” she sighed.  “We shouldn’t have to rely on partners or mates to be safe from an entire segment of our population.  Good night, Kahlil.”

* * *

 

Kahlil trudged up the path to his own door.  Instead of a room in the Alpha dorms, he lived in a row of modest townhouses with other families.  It was dark until he slipped in the door and kicked off his shoes, then a light came on to reveal a short woman with a baby on her hip.  Busted like a teenager sneaking in after curfew. He immediately dropped the gear to take the child from her.

“Hello, juju,” he crooned.  Pudgy hands patted at his grinning face.  Her tiny nose worked overtime, and little features screwed up in concentration.  She was trying to figure out why he smelled different. He rubbed his beard against her palms.  Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect O, making him laugh. “What are you doing up so late, hmm?  Are you keeping your poor mamani awake?”

“We needed a bit of a snack, didn’t we, aziz-am?”  His mother lightly scented the sweet-smelling child’s head.  “Halet chetore, pesar-am?” His mother motioned for him to lean down so she could kiss his cheek, which he obliged, kissing hers in return.  “Jat khali-ye.” A bite of gentle reproach sharpened her words.

“I’m sorry, maman.  Something came up.” He threw her an apologetic moue in between sways as he rocked the infant.

“Is ‘something’ the name of the Omega you reek of?” she asked over her shoulder as she filled a kettle with water.

“Something like that.”  He sashayed around the room with his daughter, who watched him warily and he laughed at her serious little face; the fine dark strands floating around her head detracted from the solemn mien.  The familiar sounds of tea preparation served as background music accompanied by joyful babble.

“Do we get to meet her?”  His mother folded her large, soft arms.  Kahlil dipped the baby to blow a raspberry kiss against her velvety belly; when they came back up they were both laughing.

“It’s complicated,” he sighed and jiggled a miniature foot in a parody of a dance step.  The other foot kicked up and down. The kettle switched off and she poured the hot water into the teapot.  There was a twinge in his heart. It was one of Maryam’s pieces: light blue with an elegantly scrolled handle and a band of white leaves over dark blue around the top.  She’d given it to his mother for Eid al-Fitr a few years ago.

“Marika is not a complication!”  She flung out a hand to indicate his daughter.

“No,” he agreed vehemently, kissing a chubby cheek.  Little Mari shook her head at the feel of his facial hair on her delicate skin.  “She’s just not ready for this much cuteness. Moosh bokhoradet!” he said in a sing-song way and pretended to eat her ear, making her squeal.

“But Miss Something was ready for you during her Heat?”  Despite her arched brow, amusement tilted his mother’s mouth.

“She’s been on suppressants.”

“Oh.” 

Suddenly weary, he sat down at the kitchen table and set Marika on his lap.  She yawned and wobbled, losing her balance in the process. He chuckled and encouraged her to lean back against him, her warm body relaxing, rubbing at her eyes.  His mom smiled at her sleepy granddaughter and set out the tea, sugar, and mugs. They matched the teapot. Guilt stabbed at him again.

“I’m thinking about courting her,” confessed Kahlil.  She lifted the lid to check the tea, which evidently met her satisfaction.  It’d most likely been steeping throughout the day and she had added hot water or leaves as needed to freshen, otherwise it would have needed to steep longer.

He accepted the mug she pushed towards him, sweetened with sugar and with a hint of roses.  She must have been worried about him to keep a pot going since the traditional blend and sugar were precious commodities on Hipparchus.  Before tracking down Naomi, he’d told her that he would be occupied with a project and not to expect him home for a few days.

“Good,” she sniffed, taking a seat across from him.  He gawked at her. “I would hope no son of mine would take advantage of a poor Omega during their time.”  She took a sip and made a familiar face. Even back on Earth his mom would lament that the rapidly changing climate had changed crop yields and flavours to which she was accustomed since she was a child.  “It’s not the same,” she’d complain. Yet nevertheless, she’d drink it.

“How can I look at Mari and tell her that I mated someone else?”  Glancing down, he ran long fingers through her downy curls; she squirmed, smacked her lips together, and went back to dozing.

“Are you that confident she’ll accept you?” she smiled.

“Theoretically,” he huffed.  “But it’s not just me she has to accept.  What if she doesn’t-”

“Fekr kon yek darsad.”  He rolled his eyes, earning him a smack with a spoon.  It didn’t hurt, but he pouted and shook his hand anyway, mostly to shake off the drops of tea.  “Mari will love you, but there will be days that she says she hates you. Maybe because you won’t let her stay up past her bedtime or because you won’t let her have a pet raccoon.”

“I was five years old!” he chuckled soundlessly, trying not to wake the sleeping baby in his lap.

“She will find her own things to hold over your head, there’s no need to go looking for them.”  She reached across the table to take his hand in hers. When he’d arrived, he’d made the table for Maryam using local wood and what little free time he’d had, only his mate never got to see a sun that burned indigo.  “She won’t have any memories of her mother, but we will remember for her.” 

Kahlil scrubbed the back of a hand across his eyes, which suddenly burned.  His mother went to the freezer and returned with two cookies, placing them atop their mugs to thaw.  With a sniff, he dunked his and took a bite. Cardamom, roses, and pistachios blossomed on his tongue.  She was probably saving them for the New Year. He must look pitiful if she was doling out her carefully rationed desserts.  The container these came from had threats scrawled across the top if anyone cracked the lid.

“You don’t think that it’s a little early?” he asked once he could formulate words again.

“I would say it’s a little late considering you’ve been faz bede or hal bede,” she smirked.

“That’s not what I meant,” he groaned.  “I meant-”

“I know what you meant,” she cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand.  “You feel guilt for moving on.”

“You don’t think I should?” he frowned.

“There is no should or shouldn’t when it comes to the heart, joon.”  Her thick, dark braid shot through with silver swung as she shook her head.  “There is only what is. What do you think?” He bought some time by taking another bite of cookie and a sip of tea.

“I think that I like her.”  He had to drag the words out.  It was the first time he’d said them aloud.  “She makes me feel like I can set aside all of my troubles when I’m with her and simply be, like when I shoulder those responsibilities again they’re lighter.”  He carefully shifted Marika to the crook of his other arm; her face blurred until he blinked a few times. “She has her own burdens, but she…” he sighed and looked up at the ceiling as the words he was searching for were written there.  “She doesn’t need me to fix them for her.”

She quietly enjoyed her tea as if he wasn’t ripping his heart open in a midnight confession.  He could leave it at that, and she wouldn’t pry. She was always like that, cool as a cucumber, letting his father snarl about whatever thorn was in his paw until he calmed down and was willing to see reason.  His dad usually slunk around with his tail between his legs for awhile after that. Kahlil was more likely to face his father head on, which rarely ended well for either of them.

“But I still love Maryam.”  A thumb trailed along the graceful scrollwork of the handle on his teacup.  He must be more tired than he thought because his vision blurred again. “I’m not being fair to either of them.”  His mother’s hand covered his, and he released the cup to grasp hers. When had she developed so many wrinkles? 

“You will always love her, jigar-tala, and you deserve to be happy.”  He met her eyes, which were bright with unshed tears. “Maryam would want that for you.  If this girl cares for you, she will understand. But first, you have to give her a chance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @pandabearer took some time from furiously writing papers to kindly beta read this chapter
> 
> I kind of fell into a rabbit hole of Iranian culture and the Persian language, and here’s what the internet has taught me. So I apologize in advance to any native speakers. I’m not going to try and include descriptions of holidays and traditions, I’ll let you Google them since there are better articles out there by people who actually observe them.
> 
> Deltangam - literally “my heart is tight,” indicating missing someone or something, longing or nostalgia
> 
> Juju - little bird
> 
> Halet chetore, pesar-am - how are you, my son?
> 
> Maman/mamani - mom
> 
> Aziz-am - my dear
> 
> Jat khali-ye - your place/seat is empty aka you were missed
> 
> Eid al-Fitr - Muslim holiday marking the end of Ramadan
> 
> Moosh bokhoradet - literally “a mouse should eat you.” I think of it as equivalent to “I could eat you up!”
> 
> Fekr kon yek darsad - roughly “not even 1%,” meaning “don’t imagine that, not even 1%
> 
> faz bede or hal bede - show a good time
> 
> Joon - another way of saying “dear”
> 
> Jigar-tala - literally “gold liver,” equivalent to “sweetheart.” Many ancient cultures believed that the liver was the source of emotions, which was how you got the notion of medieval humours and bile affecting one’s health if they were out of balance.


	12. Awkward Family Reunions

It was sheer chaos.  Complete and utter madness that made Naomi want to turn tail and run as fast as her legs could carry her.  She could treat broken bones, handle bodily fluids, and, more than once, she’d even had to treat blisters on the knots of young Alphas going through their first rut.  But this was more than she could stomach.

A little girl ran across her path, immediately followed by a little boy with a worm in his fist, screaming, “Come on, Nisha!  I dare you to eat it!”

At least the invertebrate wasn’t toxic.

Mihaela stood in the doorway, yelling at a group of Alphas playing football.

“If one of you knotheads gets hurt, you can wait to get patched up till I’m done with dinner!”  Her mate broke away from his teammates to bound up to her. Whatever he whispered into her ear turned her frown into a suspicious smile and she pushed him away with a rueful shake of her head.  Naomi was fairly certain that her co-worker’s threat was an empty one since she didn’t wander far, continuing to watch the game through the window.

This pandemonium in no way resembled the Thanksgivings she’d shared with her father growing up.  An arm slipped through hers before she could make a retreat.

“Come on, it’s not wise to stand too close,” Emma smirked, pulling her away.  “I’m glad you came.”

“Who can say no to a pregnant Omega?” laughed Naomi.  The shorter woman flashed her a brilliant, if mischievous, grin and guided her to a table.

“My mate, evidently,” she said with a rueful shake of her head.  “If it involves me leaving his sight or walking more than twenty feet.  I swear, he’d not let me leave the nest if he thought he could get away with it.”

“Of course he’s going overboard, your first child’s going to be the first one born on the planet!  This kid’s going to be so spoiled,” she smiled. To avoid complications due to cryosleep, Omegas and Betas had taken suppressants during their preparation window.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”  Emma used her proffered arm for balance as she took her seat, grimacing down at her stomach as she settled.  “Oof, settle down in there, young lady. She’s really active today. Want to feel?”

“Uh.” 

It was too late.

She took Naomi’s hand in hers and pressed it to her abdomen.  She wanted to pull her hand away, but Emma watched her with that glowing anticipation which was characteristic of new mothers.  After a few beats of silence, uncomfortable for Naomi and fraught with expectation for Emma, there was a faint flutter under her palm.  She wasn’t certain that she’d felt movement until it happened again, firmer this time.

Naomi jumped and stared at the pregnant Omega, who laughed at her wide-eyed expression.  It was one thing to know there was new life in Emma’s belly, it was another matter entirely to feel it.  A strange warmth bloomed in her chest, which she tried to ignore.

“So, uh, is it always like this around here?”  Naomi tipped her head towards the human dogpile outside the window.

“Yeah, at least they took it outside this time,” she sighed and pulled some knitting out of a basket at her feet; it looked like a tiny malachite-green cardigan.  “Which was why I was so desperate for some normal company.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t move you out of the military dorm and into family housing.”

“He plans on building a home as soon as the weather permits, but for now he’s fine with surrounding me with every soldier we have.”  Emma rolled her eyes. “You know, I come from a time when a militarized police force was the first step on the road to fascism, so I don’t believe any one person should have that much power, but they’re the closest thing to family I’ve had in a long time.  Did your family come with you?”

“No,” Naomi shook her head.  She wasn’t ready to volunteer any more information than that.

“Of course not, otherwise you’d be spending Thanksgiving with them instead of a hormone-crazy, pregnant patient you barely know.”  Emma’s brief laugh was high pitched as she fussed with her knitting some more before chucking it into the basket with an exasperated huff.  “I’m… sheesh, I practiced this conversation in my head for months, but now I freeze,” she scoffed at herself. “I mean, there’s no easy way to put this.”  Naomi had seen some interesting examples of pregnancy brain, but she was having difficulty following this. Emma took a deep breath and started again. 

“We’re related, you and I.”  Naomi blinked at her. “My brother, he, uh well, he had a normal life after he thought I died.  Had kids and then they had kids, so on and so forth. And um, I’m your aunt so many times over I can’t count and would really rather not dwell on.”  Her hands fluttered about as she talked, eventually twisting themselves together as she waited for Naomi to say something.

“Oh.”  Emma chewed her lip and was quite possibly holding her breath.   _ Is that it?  All you’ve got to say?  Say something else!  _ “Uh.”   _ Brilliant, now she thinks her descendant’s a complete moron _ .  “It was just me and my dad, so I’ve never had an aunt before, let alone one who’s both older and younger than me.”  They snickered, breaking the tension.

“Well, that’s a good thing because I’ve never been an aunt before.  If I’m terrible at it, I’m still the favourite aunt by default,” she grinned.  “And I figured Thanskgiving’s the best time for an awkward family reunion.” Another laugh, deeper and warmer, was shared.

* * *

 

Grit scraped across his eyes with every blink.  If it weren’t for his tightly gritted teeth he’d yawn until his jaw cracked.  Kahlil had heard stories of people long ago using alcohol on teething babies, he was beginning to wonder if they’d been applying it to the wrong subject.  Space onboard ship was too valuable to waste on spirits, but undoubtedly someone was experimenting with edible flora. Maybe he could catch some shut-eye instead of lunch.  He wasn’t scheduled anywhere after noon and the small office he shared with several others who needed office hours occasionally would be empty long enough for him to catch some shut eye.  The rumble coming from his abdomen indicated his stomach was opposed to the notion.

Someone else had other ideas, too, because the open door slammed shut.

“What the hell is this?” Naomi demanded, waving around her commpad.  Her room reassignment filled the plastiglass screen.

“How much longer did you think you could stay in beta quarters?” he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger.

“That’s not the point!” she snapped, hands on her hips.  “You didn’t even ask me!”

“I’m in charge of housing.  I can’t personally consult with everyone before making a decision, nor should I have to,” he said with a pointed look.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I gave you time to choose one on your own.  I sent you the vacancy list ten days ago.” He’d also sent her a few personal missives, none of which she returned.

“Why should I have to move?”

“It’s for your safety-” he began.

“I am safe!” she cried.

“You were safe when you were a beta.  How safe do you think you’ll be when Morton learns your true presentation?”  He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

“Then move him!  Why should I be punished?”  She flung out a hand in the general direction of the Beta dormoritory.

“Because he’s not the only one to worry about!”  The flinch at his raised voice didn’t go unnoticed.  He continued in a softer tone. “It’s safer this way, which is why it’s policy.  I won’t bend the rules for you. If more housing was available it would be a different story.”

“The only housing going up now is for families,” she scoffed.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do,” he sighed.  “What if you go into Heat? How are you going to get to Omega housing?  Will you hide in agriculture storage again where some other Alpha can find you?”

“Is that what you’re bugging about?  Are you worried I’ll find someone else?” snapped Naomi.

“I am ‘bugging’ because I’m trying to do my job and keep you safe, which you’re not making any easier,” he replied as calmly as he could manage.

“Oh, so now this is my fault?”  Kahlil reminded himself that her hormones were probably still equalizing.  He’d heard that going off suppressants cold turkey was… difficult. Though he couldn’t get a proper scent of her pheromones from the anger pouring off of her to tell.

“I’m giving you choices.”  He forced himself to unclench his jaw; hissing at her through gritted teeth would only make matters worse.  “But I can’t make them for you.” That stopped her in her tracks.

“Isn’t that what Alphas do?  Tell everyone else what they’re going to do?”  And the fire was back in full force.

“Don’t throw me in the same group as that asshole Abbott,” he growled, rising to his feet.

“Then what’s this?”  Her slender fingers flew over her commpad and she thrust it at him.  The article displayed was written by Gaelan Abbott. He only managed to get through a few paragraphs before he wanted to destroy the device in his hands.

_ For their safety and the good of the community, no Omega should leave their family until they’re mated.  Their weakness leaves them vulnerable to their baser natures and they need the stabilizing influence of their Alpha.  To protect our most precious members, I propose that policy changes for the good of the whole. Towards this end, I approached the Director of Housing, Kahlil Haddad... _

“That’s a piece of goh.”  Kahlil tossed the tablet on the desk, not trusting himself to hand it back without harming her.  “He didn’t propose anything, probably because he knew I’d tell him what I think of his ‘benevolent’…”  He broke off because the only words in English that came to mind were inappropriate.

“Oh, so your offer to move in together was what?  Another ‘choice’?” She cocked a hip and folded her arms under her breasts, but he was too angry to appreciate the stance.  “You think pitching it like we’d be roommates would fool me? You could just sit back and wait for my next cycle?” Her words cracked like a whip.

He stared.  Did she truly think he would use the intimacy of her Heat, and her secret, to manipulate her?  By the time he managed to pick his jaw up off the floor, she’d snatched up her commpad and stormed out, slamming the door behind her for good measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My back was acting up yesterday, so I took the day off, which means you get a chapter!  
> Amidst all the crap, I do have good news: we have a [http://sliverofjade.tumblr.com/post/174994065366](baby%20bird)! Anyone who follows me on Tumblr has been spammed with daily pics and videos of the little naked chicken and my 3 adult cockatiels.


	13. A Rude Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally, I try to avoid notes because of possible spoilers and I don’t want to interfere with reader immersion.
> 
> I’m a white Pagan. Since joining the greater online writers community, I’ve been trying to write characters that aren’t like me or with my experiences. Sometimes it’s using a random name generator that draws upon many different cultures. Other times it’s a character poking me to say, “Hey idiot, I’m Muslim” like Khalil did.
> 
> Needless to say, this chapter was tricky to write due to incorporating Persian-American culture and how it might change in 200-ish years. Now try factoring in how a religion might try to address genetic alterations and space colonization in that same time frame. And individuality was the cherry on top.
> 
> I did a lot of research, but had no idea how to find a sensitivity reader for this. If you belong to any of the groups represented in this chapter and you have constructive criticism, please feel free to DM me on Tumblr http://sliverofjade.tumblr.com/
> 
> Please refrain from religious or cultural bashing debate and I hope you enjoy.

“Did you read my article?”

Khalil ignored the question and continued to work, allowing silence to fill the room.  Gaelan Abbott sprawled in the chair on the other side of the desk as if the office belonged to him.

“What did you think of my proposal?”

“I think that it was the whinging of a person who can’t attract a mate on their own merit and is attempting to re-structure the order of things in the hopes that they’ll be allotted one.”  Without looking up, he imbued his words with all the contempt he felt for the premise and the man, though he never raised his voice.  He could almost swear he heard Abbott’s molars grinding.

“Guardianship would relieve many housing issues,” he tried again.

“This was all argued long before launching.  It didn’t fly then, it won’t fly now.”  It took all of his self-control to keep from crushing the laser pen in his hand.

“You know what they say: no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy.”  He spread his hands as if to say “what can you do?”

“And who is the enemy here?” sighed Khalil.  Abbott blinked, and a lazy grin spread across his face, though there was little humour in it.

“It’s a metaphor,” he shrugged.  “I can see I’m going to have to speak plainly.  Guardianship should be implemented now.  There’ll be too much resistance if we wait any longer.  You know how Omegas are when it comes to change.”  He used the word ‘we’ as if the two people in the room had anything more than outward physical characteristics in common.

“You’ve forgotten this is a democracy where everyone has rights,” growled Khalil.  The arms of his chair creaking alarmingly under the grip he had on them.  His fists ached with the urge to wipe the smirk off the smug bastard’s face.

“For now,” was the enigmatic reply.  “Eventually they’ll come to see this is in everyone’s best interests.”

* * *

 

“I doubt that Omegas will see it that way,” he said dryly.

“They will once they realize they’ll be better off, how much safer they’ll be.”  Khalil’s blood ran cold at the way Abbott caressed his words.  “Without an Alpha, they’re vulnerable.  Like that girl I passed in the hall.  I noticed that your office smells like her, but she doesn’t carry your scent.”

He’d always thought that “seeing red” was just a euphemism.

He was wrong.

Heart in her throat, Naomi knocked on the door.  The sound was so faint on the sturdy wood she wondered if anyone inside could hear.  She wiped her palms on her pants as she waited.

“Hello.”  A middle-aged woman answered the door.  Despite the early hour it was clear she was already up since she was dressed for the day a cobalt tunic with aqua arabesque around the neckline and hems over a pair of loose-fitting black pants.  Naomi found herself tongue-tied in front of the blank-faced stranger.  “You must be looking for Khalil.  Please, come in.  I am Fairuza, Khalil’s mother,” she stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter.

“I’m Naomi.  I hope I haven’t come at a bad time, I know it’s early,” she said awkwardly.  Spotting the shoes lined up neatly next to the door and Fairuza’s slippers, she removed her own and added them to the row.

“It’s no problem.  I’m usually up praying by now,” she said with a wave of her hand and led her guest into the living room.  Naomi nearly tripped over her own feet when she saw the baby scooting across a fluffy yellow blanket on the floor.  She’d known that Khalil lived with family.  Was the child his?

“Besides, it’s our day to cook breakfast isn’t it, bebe?” his mother said, scooping up the infant and settling her on a plump hip.  “Let’s go wake Baba.”

Naomi’s stomach plummeted through the floor as she watched the two ascend a staircase set off to one side.  “Baba” must be equivalent to “papa” because it sounded so similar and it made the most sense given the context.  Did he not want her to know?  Would he be mad that she came over when he hadn’t told her which house was his and she looked him up in the registry?  If he was keeping her from his family, did that mean that she wasn’t important to him?  That thought hurt even if they hadn’t discussed what they were to each other.  She couldn’t very well leave, although she wanted to since she was losing her nerve.

“You are staying for breakfast, yes?”  Naomi was so lost in her thoughts she spun at the sound of Fairuza’s voice behind her.

“Er.”  She froze like a moofalo in headlights.  Khalil’s mother took a dove grey scarf from a peg by the door, the baby still on her hip, and started to wrap the fabric around Fairuza’s neck.  Naomi held out her hands to take the little one.  “Here, let me.”

“Mam-noon.”  Fairuza handed over her grandchild and folded the scarf around her head with hands deft from experience.

Naomi stared at her precious burden, who stared back at her with eyes so dark they were like pools of ink.  It wasn’t possible for an infant to express judgment, it had to be her imagination interpreting that tiny, pudgy expression.  Before they were finished taking each other’s measure, her grandmother took her back.  Then she pulled Naomi down so she could give her three kisses on either cheek.  Then Fairuza bustled out the kitchenette door to the communal kitchen, leaving the younger woman to try and process what had just happened.

* * *

 

Khalil woke to his mom’s voice and groaned into his pillow.  His head was pounding and his right eye ached in complaint from sleeping on it.

“Don’t you growl at me,” she scolded with a light swat to the arm that hung over the edge of the bed.

“Wasn’t growl,” he muttered and sat up, blinking owlishly and trying to focus sleep-filled eyes.  “What is it?  Does she want me?”  He was already reaching for his daughter.

“Yes, but it’s not Mari.”

“What?”  He tilted his head to one side and squinted at her.

“Your Miss Something is here,” she answered and hitched Marika up higher.

“Huh?”

“Naomi,” she sighed in exasperation.

Khalil nearly bolted out of the room before he remembered that he wore only boxers.  His mom laughed and shook her head, leaving him to get dressed and telling her granddaughter that love made fools of men.

Hopping around on one foot, he nearly tripped in his rush to pull on pants.  Why was she here?  Would she be mad that he didn’t tell her he had a daughter?  Stupid question, of course she was going to be angry.  He made it to the door and realized his shirt was on backwards, fixing it while he dashed down the stairs as fast as he dared.  Bad enough she was going to see his bedhead, falling on his face would only make things worse.

His Omega stood motionless with her head bowed and face turned away from him.  His stomach sank.

“Naomi,” he said softly, afraid she would spook if he spoke any louder.  Still, she jumped a little and turned to him.  “Marika is-”

“Your daughter from your former mating, yes.”  Her face was oddly blank, and her scent was muted from a recent shower; he couldn’t even guess at her mood, which twisted up his insides.  “I understand.  I mean, I’m not happy, but I’m also not mad that you didn’t tell me.”

“Then what’s wrong?”  He came around to put his hands on her shoulders in the hope it would ground her.  Only then did she look up at him through a bloodless face.

“I’m sorry!” she blurted out.  His brows barely had time to furrow before she continued.  “I didn’t know you were Muslim.  If I’d known I wouldn’t have…”  He jerked his hands away as if burned.

“I see.”  Cold rage sliced through him.  He had never imagined she was bigoted.  Evidently, he was mistaken.  Now he was paying for his assumptions with pain.  Moving to see her to the door, he was too angry to see understanding dawn on her face.

“No, that’s not what I meant!”  Naomi waved both of her hands and darted away from him.  “It’s just…  Isn’t pre-marital sex against your beliefs?”  Colour returned to her face, particularly in the cheeks.  “I-I’m sorry if…”  She broke off and studied her toes, which were curling up like they were trying to hide under themselves.

Khalil blinked at her while his emotions shifted gear for the third time since he woke up.  Then he threw back his head and laughed.

“Are you concerned for my honour?” he grinned and took a step closer.  The blush was spreading down her throat now.  Taking pity on her, he pressed a hand to a cheek so warm it nearly scalded.  “That was a conscious, mutual decision.  You didn’t take advantage of me.”

“I don’t want to…”  The words she needed were obviously eluding her.  He wanted to kiss her until she forgot she was concerned about him.

“So you decided to discuss religion and sexual mores at dawn, on our day off I should add.”  Despite the teasing, his heart felt full.  Would that every day started with waking up to her.

“Well, no.  I heard what happened and came to see if you’re all right.”  She held up the bag slung across her body and herded him towards the dining table.

He allowed her to press him into a chair so she could inspect the damage with long, slender fingers gently prodding at the swelling around his eye.  While she worked, he took the opportunity to watch her work.  The hollows of her eyes were sunken and bruised, the faint line between her brows when she worried or concentrated seemed deeper than usual.  He figured he’d behaved long enough and tugged her into his lap.  She squeaked, but only gave him an arch look before resuming her task.

“You should’ve gotten this looked at last night,” she frowned.  “The occipital bone appears fine, but this might scar.”  She lightly brushed the split in his brow.

“Afraid I will spoil my boyish good looks?”  He waggled both eyebrows at her and she rolled her eyes, ignoring him in favour of applying a salve to the small wound.  Purring, he leaned into her touch.  Pink bloomed in her cheeks again.

“I’m Jewish.”  Lulled by her ministrations, he needed a moment to catch up with the change in topic.  “I mean, my mom was.  I remember making challah with her.”  The corners of her mouth kicked up.  “She would give me a bit of extra dough to knead to keep me busy so she could actually get the baking done.  My poor mother, the kitchen and I would both be covered in flour.”

She laughed and tilted her head back, her too-bright eyes blinking rapidly.  He rubbed slow circles on her back and smiled at the thought of a little girl with flour coating her dark hair.

“Dad was agnostic and raised me the same way,” she continued when the tears had passed.  “He still tried, though, but I could tell that anything that remind him of Mom was too painful.  So, we just stopped.”  The buttons on his shirt suddenly appeared fascinating to her.  “I-is that a problem?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mam-noon: thanks


End file.
